Prays that the men of blood themselves may be forgiven.
XXIV.
Short time is now for gratulating speech:
And yet, beloved Gertrude, ere began
Thy country’s flight, yon distant towers to reach,
Looked not on thee the rudest partisan
With brow relaxed to love? And murmurs ran,
As round and round their willing ranks they drew,
From beauty’s sight to shield the hostile van.
Grateful, on them a placid look she threw,